


breathless and intoxicated

by Katbelle



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward First Times, Dirty Talk, Drinking & Talking, I think this covers everything, M/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katbelle/pseuds/Katbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking with Karen is a bad idea. Drinking with Karen leads to awkward conversations about awkward hookups. And awkward revelations. And everything is awkward. And <em>then</em> it leads to fantasies that are more mind-blowing than awkward.</p><p>
  <em>"You're telling me that our awful awkward sloppy drunk hookup from years ago was your first time?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"...Yes."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	breathless and intoxicated

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/4501.html?thread=8042901#cmt8042901) over at the k-meme. I'm not terribly good at writing sex, even of the imaginary kind. So, fair warning.

**breathless and intoxicated**

"So," Karen asks, "have you guys ever, you know," she makes a vague and weird gesture with her hands, " _together_?"

She looks genuinely interested, and not a little bit flushed. It's probably because of the alcohol. He hopes it's because of the alcohol, not a strange disease or excitement over his answer. Because he's not going to answer her. He's going to say that it's none of her business, because it's _not_ , or he'll tell her 'no' and to drop it, or--"Yes."

It takes him a moment to realise that he was the one who said it — well, the alcohol in his bloodstream did, at the very least — and he cringes. Christ. Drinking was a very, very bad idea. Drinking with Karen was the worst idea of all.

"Ha!" Karen slams her fist on the table. "I knew it! You guys dated!"

"We never dated, Karen," Matt tells her patiently and he sounds--He sounds different than usual. Almost as if he was disappointed. Yeah, no. Foggy should stop drinking.

To counter his last thought, he takes a sip of his whiskey. "It was one time," he tells her, while looking into his glass, "it was right after our first year exams, we were really drunk, it was awful, everybody experiments while at uni, you can't judge us for that."

"I'm not," Karen assures at the same moment when Matt says, "it wasn't awful."

Foggy cringes again. "It was an uncoordinated disaster, especially on your side, almost as if you didn't know what to do. Epic failure. Good thing I never bragged to anyone about it, otherwise your reputation would have been destroyed."

"Reputation?" Karen asks curiously.

Matt blushes. Although, come to think of it, he was already red by the time Foggy finished his last sentence. Damn that alcohol, it was going to be the death of all of them. "Yeah," Foggy says. "Matt was the Casanova of our year." He frowns. "Why are we even talking about this?"

Josie stops by their table to supply them with a fresh bottle and gives them a stink eye. Foggy blows her a kiss and she rolls her eyes. Karen grabs the bottle that Josie left and fills up all their glasses. Bless Karen, the best employee ever.

"That's vital information," Karen says earnestly and she nudges their glasses back to them. "Okay, next question: your first time, when, with whom, how bad was it? I can even start. Emmet Delancey, senior prom, worst seven minutes of my life."

Foggy takes his glass, gulps down its contents, and laughs. " _Fine_. Rhonda Jones, the day before junior prom, it was pretty good. No one got a black eye, so that's a plus. She liked it enough to date me for the whole of senior year. We're still Facebook friends, I even went to her wedding ."

"Aww, good for you!" Karen pats his shoulder. "Matt?" Matt makes a sound like a kettle full of boiling water. "Matt, come on. We've shared."

Matt murmurs something that sounds, to Foggy's ears at least, surprisingly like Foggy's own name.

"Say that again?" Karen asks.

"Foggy," Matt says, still quietly.

"Yeah, no." Foggy pours another glass of whiskey for himself and lifts it to his lips. "I'm not saving you from this one, buddy. You're on your own."

Karen's frowning. And Matt... His face must be positively _burning_ , that's how red it is, you could probably fry an egg on his cheek. Foggy giggles, because the idea is ridiculous. Not to mention, your egg would be ruined by Matt's sharp cheekbones that no human should be able to possess, that's how perfect they are.

"No, I mean..." Matt clears his throat and soldiers on, bless. "Foggy, right after our first year exams, it wasn't awful, no matter what he says."

Foggy drops his glass. It tumbles sideways, whiskey spilling everywhere, and then rolls off the table, shattering on the floor with a clank that normally no one would notice, but now sounds impossibly loud in the silence that fell on their table.

"What do you mean 'Foggy'? You're joking, right?" Matt gets even redder, he's so red now that he's slowly turning purple. "But it was--it was law school! You dated all the hottest girls! And your bed had a revolving door!"

"You just thought so," Matt says, and thankfully doesn't point out the fact that beds don't have doors, usually. "I never corrected that assumption."

"You're telling me that our awful awkward sloppy drunk hookup from years ago was your first time?"

"...Yes."

"I've got to, um," Karen says suddenly, pointing somewhere at the bar counter, "over there, you know, I've gotta go, now, and, yeah."

She stands up abruptly and walks away from their table.

"I'm _sorry_ ," Foggy says. The whiskey says. "I'm so sorry, that's terrible."

"What? Foggy, why are you sorry--"

"Because awful awkward sloppy drunk hookup was your first time and you deserved so much better." He realises something. "Holy _fuck_ , that's your impression of me. Your impression of me is based on that awful awkward sloppy drunk hookup. Oh no, this is horrible. I knew shit, back then."

"It was fine. I enjoyed it."

"Sure. I bet you'd enjoy it more now, though, I've improved greatly" Foggy murmurs. "I'm calling a do-over. Have to protect my street cred as a sex god."

He half-means it as a joke. But Matt shivers at that and, okay, yeah, he looks interested. Foggy might be into it, he might be into it _a lot_.

"It wouldn't be awful, terribad and awkward this time," Foggy tells him. He pitches his voice low and suggestive, and leans across the table to whisper it to Matt. "I'd take you home and undress you, piece by piece, so slowly that you'd be shivering by the end. I'd take you to my bed and kiss every inch of your skin. I'd kiss your cock and drag my tongue over it, and I'd swallow it whole and suck it until you could barely breathe. I'd make you come and then I'd move to kiss you, deeply, so that you could taste yourself."

Matt's breathing is sharp, comes in quick, cut-off puffs. His fist is clenched and he's digging his fingernails into the palm. The other hand Foggy cannot see.

"You'd be far to gone to beg for anything, but I wouldn't be done," Foggy carries on, says whatever comes to mind, the whiskey loosened something in him, a brain-to-mouth filter is gone. "I'd spread your legs and slick you up, generous, so that you're all wet. I'd prep you so slowly that it'd drive you insane with pleasure, one finger, then two, then three, then _four_ because you'd love it, you'd be eager for it."

"And then?" Matt's voice hitches at the second syllable.

"Then you'd be ready for me, for the best fuck of your life. I'd slide into you slowly, so so slowly, and I wouldn't speed up no matter how much you begged me to. It wouldn't be a rushed affair, I'd worship your body like it deserves to be worshipped. You'd be hard again, of course. But I wouldn't need to touch you, you'd come again just from the feeling of me inside you. You'd come shouting things that'd make your priest blush if he knew."

"Yes..." Matt sighs.

"And I'd come right after you, and I'd fill you to the brim, dirty and wet and you'd love it. I'd fuck you through the aftershocks until you'd only be capable of mewling. We'd fall asleep and I'd wake up still inside you, because this is my fantasy and I can, and I'd take you again right there, and you'd still be wet and loose from before. It'd be the best fuck of your life, and nothing would ever be able to live up to that."

Matt's mouth is hanging open. He shakes his head slowly and licks his lips. "Take me home," he says, not a little bit breathless.

"What about Karen?"

Matt shakes his head again. "Fuck--fuck Karen, fuck, we can--call her a taxi. _Take me home_ and do it, do all that. You didn't do it the last time."

"I thought you said our first time was fine and you enjoyed it."

"Obviously I lied," Matt says. "I was cheated, I missed out, so I _demand_ a do-over."

Foggy grins. Yeah, oh yeah, he can do that. He'd be more than happy to do that.


End file.
